


Powerful Purrs

by el3anorrigby



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Gift Exchange, M/M, Snowed In, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-09 17:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8902135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/el3anorrigby/pseuds/el3anorrigby
Summary: Napoleon never knew Illya could be so adorable when handling cats. And he never knew he could be jealous by it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tallihensia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tallihensia/gifts).



> This is my gift to you for The Man From UNCLE Gift exchange 2016. You had wanted something with Illya and kittens (but it's a cat in here) and where Napoleon's fascinated by it. I've no excuse, but I had left it late, so if this story is just so-so and full of mistakes, I hope you don't mind. Wish I could've done better. But anyway, I do hope you'll like it! <3

Napoleon trudged forward doggedly in the heavy snow, each ploughing step making him work hard. He had one hand near the holster strapped to his right thigh, ready to reach for his gun just in case he might need to use it. He did not want to encounter any surprises, even if he was sure no one was following him in the snow. Their mission in Geneva, to steal a blueprint from a radical group planning to start some kind of war against the Swiss government, had been successful. But heavy snowstorm throughout the night and early morning had prevented Illya and him from making to their extraction point, where Gaby and the rest of the team had been waiting for them.

“We could only get you and Illya out once the roads reopen. But for now, you’ll have to make it to that safe house we’d gone through in our exit plan.”

Gaby had sounded worried and sorry that UNCLE had to resort to them bunking in that safe house, a remote wooden cabin at the foot of the Alps. But it had been their only option, and they couldn’t argue with the dreadful weather. And knowing they might be stranded there, at worse for a couple of days, Napoleon had decided to set off to the nearest village or town to get some provision for the duration of their stay. Their safe house had its share of food supplies but he wasn’t going to feed them something from those ancient food cans. Illya had argued, telling him it was fine but Napoleon was a stubborn man so he had set out anyway and was lucky to stumble upon that little shop in a quaint village after almost an hour trudging in the snow. With that bag full of canned food he was agreeable to and some other necessary supplies he could manage to get his hands on slung over his shoulder, Napoleon quickly went over his head what he could cook once he reached the cabin. He had earlier on planned on making some good stew that could warm them up real good, but beggars can’t be choosers, so some canned vegetable soup and baked beans would have to do instead.

“Do not take too long, Cowboy. And make sure you watch your back.”

Recalling Illya’s words, Napoleon smiled remembering his partner’s worried look. He hadn’t been entirely happy letting Napoleon go, but Illya had lost the coin toss which had ultimately decided the Russian staying put while Napoleon, in his infuriating manner, left him alone to his devices. Napoleon noted the time, realised he’d been gone for almost two hours. Illya wouldn’t be too pleased with that, so he quickly doubled his efforts to get back to the cabin before it turned dark. Shivering, he tightened the dark coloured wool coat around him as the wind was starting to pick up, and blinked away some of the snowflakes caught in his eyelashes which was obscuring his vision.

As he made his way over the last little hill leading towards their cabin, he sighed in relief once he spotted it in the distance. Seeing no signs of Illya (just in case his partner had this crazy idea of waiting up for him out in the cold) Napoleon hurried his steps but as he approached the side of the cabin, he stopped for a moment to check on his surroundings, to ensure everything was secure. Once certain, he turned and moved towards the front of the cabin, shaking the excess snow off his jacket before opening the door and stepping inside. What greeted him, however, had him raising his eyebrows, both in surprise and amusement.

“Is that a cat on your lap, Peril?” he asked as he took off his snow hat and raked his fingers through his dark hair. He was glad Illya had made the place warm enough, with a little fire going on in the fireplace, so he eagerly shrugged off his damp coat before hooking it on the coat rack found beside the door. Earlier, it had been freezing cold inside, what with the place presumedly long left unattended. The safe house was not really big, enough to accommodate them both, although Napoleon had cursed the availability of only one bedroom with that single bed by the window, meaning one of them would have to take the rather uncomfortable looking couch that night.

Illya, who was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, with said cat wrapped around a very large blanket on his lap, frowned at Napoleon who was still musing over something in his head.

“ _You_ are late,” he reprimanded the American instead of answering his partner’s question. Napoleon thought he had gotten away with that but apparently he hadn’t. And he definitely had not missed the worried tone in Illya’s voice.

“Well, the nearest town was about three miles away, and walking in thick snow didn’t make it easier for me,” Napoleon explained.

Illya seemed to accept his answer and then his eyes softened on him. “You did good, Cowboy.”

“Yeah, I only got us some canned food, but it’ll definitely be better than eating from those expired ones stocked up in the store,” Napoleon said. He then quickly made his way towards the kitchenette at the other end of the room, putting the bag away before turning to face Illya once again. He crossed his arms and let out a slight cough to garner Illya’s attention who seemed too preoccupied with his new found friend.

“So, Peril. The cat.”

“What about the cat?” Illya asked looking up at Napoleon once again.

“How did it get here?”

“I was checking on perimeter, found it outside wandering in snow. Then it kept following me around. So I decided to let it in.”

Napoleon was now crouched beside Illya, fascinated that Illya was giving the cat so much attention. He reached out to rub his hand gently along the underside of its chin and it purred and pushed itself into the pleasant caress.

“Was it in distress when you found it? I mean was it half covered in snow, something like that?” Napoleon asked and when Illya did not answer, he eyed the Russian who was giving him a look Napoleon could not quite decipher.

“What?” he asked and Illya sort of grinned.

“You know about cats?”

“I had one when I was a kid. So I know that if it had been outside, and it _is_ pretty cold outside, it might be susceptible to frostbite, especially on the ear tips.”

“She was okay then and she looks fine to me now,” Illya said and that made Napoleon chuckled.

“What is funny?” he asked, curious.

“It’s a she?”

Illya gave Napoleon a side glance and rolled his eyes. “Yes. I checked.”

“So we’re going to keep her?”

“Well, we cannot leave her outside. She will freeze to death,” Illya scowled and Napoleon grinned. It was so easy to elicit a reaction from the Russian.

“Of course. We can’t let her suffer outside and die from hypothermia.”

“Of course not.”.

”Although I still wonder how she’d managed to survive the cold before.” 

The black and white cat, with its slightly long fur, was purring and rubbing its head on Illya’s hand now, its ears erect and eyelids slightly lowered, obviously relaxed and enjoying Illya’s attention on it. Once in a while, it would lick Illya’s fingers and suddenly, Napoleon found himself actually being jealous of the cat. At that ridiculous thought, he shook his head in annoyance.

“What is wrong?” Illya suddenly asked. Apparently, he had noticed Napoleon’s little discontentment.

Napoleon shrugged as he stood on his feet. “Oh, nothing at all. I’m just baffled to see the cat really enjoying your company.”

Illya sniggered. He sensed a little bitterness in Napoleon’s words but decided not to say anything about it. “I like her.”

“Obviously you like her more as compared to our first encounter when you tried to kill me,” Napoleon muttered and was annoyed when Illya simply ignored his sarcastic comment. And he couldn’t, for the life of him, thought he would actually have to fight for Illya’s attention one day with a cat.

“You know? While you attend to your new favourite friend, I’ll go make us something rich and warm for dinner,” he commented lightly in the end and Illya raised an eyebrow at Napoleon’s retreating back, regarding him carefully while wondering if he had heard a little bit of jealousy in Napoleon’s tone of voice.

 

ii

 

Having had a cat once, Napoleon knew that cats don’t really need a lot of space, just large enough for them to stand or move about and stay safe. In this case, they needed to protect it from the harsh outdoor element; the shivering cold. And Illya was doing his best to ensure the cat, who he had adorably named Mushka, be as comfortable as possible. It was now dark outside, and the weather was at its coldest, so Mushka, being typical, was relying on Illya for warmth, it seemed. It followed Illya, stayed near his feet wherever he went around the cabin and Napoleon couldn’t help but feel amused at what he was seeing.

“You should have called it Ms Underfoot instead of Mushka,” he teased Illya while heating up the vegetable soup on the stove.

Illya, who was busy setting up the table from across the room, glared at Napoleon. “That is stupid name.”

“Well, she seems to be fascinated with your feet.”

“Cats have a special relationship with our feet. They interact with it because it is at their level.”

Napoleon gaped at the Russian’s explanation in wonderment and then hummed. Mushka seemed to be really comfortable with Illya and Napoleon couldn’t help but grin widely when Illya later picked the cat up and rested it securely against his chest with its paws on his shoulder. And his smile grew even wider when he had heard Illya mutter something like _‘Cowboy’s just jealous of you’_.

Did Illya even know how close he was to the truth?

“You think she belongs to someone?” Napoleon asked Illya later.

“This cabin is remote. No one could have lost a cat out here.”

“Well, that is quite true. But I wonder how she’d got here,” Napoleon said as he glanced out the window, into the darkness, as if expecting the cat’s owner to turn up at any given moment, asking if they had seen their lost pet.

 

iii

 

They were having dinner when Illya noticed Mushka was watching him eat.

“You think she is still hungry? She had finished the can of tuna not half an hour ago.”

“Well,” Napoleon began as he chewed on his baked beans. “I think Mushka’s probably just being curious and wondering why on earth is her new owner sticking a sharp metal object in his mouth again and again.”

“It may also be that she wants my attention, to play with her because she likes me,” Illya replied with a scowl, not entirely happy with Napoleon’s mocking tone. This made Napoleon laugh.

“That depends on the personality of your cat, Peril.”

“No, I remember my old cat used to do this. If I didn’t let it into my room with me, it will put its paw under the door until it gets my attention. So, I will put my hand down to touch its paw and it would seem like we are holding ‘hands’ through the door. And it would purr whenever we did this.”

“ _That_ is painfully cute,” Napoleon quipped, trying to envision that little scene in his head. And although not agreeing with Napoleon’s choice of words, Illya grinned at his partner who was also grinning back, and at that moment, Napoleon realised how ridiculously adorable Illya was despite the dangerous persona and gruffness he always portrayed. And damn it, he should have known better than to fall for the tall Russian. But he could not help himself even if he had fought hard to deny it. And he knew he was in trouble the moment Gaby had told him they had to spend the night in that cabin.

 

iv

 

“This cat reminded me of my neighbour’s one when I was a boy. They’d found it in a puddle of water and saved it. It was winter that time and the cat survived after Mr Yankov warmed it enough to save its life.”

Napoleon was cleaning up after their dinner and although he tried his best not to roll his eyes (because Illya was talking non-stop about the cat and cats in general), he still listened intently to Illya’s reminiscing. It was never easy for Illya to talk about something, let alone his past, for he was a man of few words, so Napoleon should at least feel privileged Illya was telling this story even. But, when he delved into it again, it was actually the damn cat that got him talking.

“So, what was Mr Yankov’s cat’s name?”

Napoleon decided in the end that if he couldn’t win against the cat, he should at least indulge Illya. 

They were now in the living room, with Illya sprawled on the carpet with Mushka, while Napoleon was on the couch, feet up and head resting against the cushion by the couch’s arm when he decided to ask Illya the question.

“The cat’s name was Boris.”

“Ahh, how so very Russian.”

Illya shrugged. “Of course, it is only appropriate. We would not have given it any other names other than a Russian one.”

And then Illya was talking, telling Napoleon about Boris and the Yankovs, about his childhood and cats, and the longer the conversation went, Napoleon realised he was watching Illya rather than listening to him, his voice and everything else having faded to the background. And Napoleon knew how passionate Illya was when he cares about something and even if he wasn’t really paying attention to him at the moment, looking at him talk so animatedly just tugged at Napoleon’s heart.

“Have you been listening at all, Solo?”

Napoleon knew Illya was talking to him because he had this frown on his face and his lips were moving but what Napoleon said then was something he had never thought he’d say out loud.

“ _Damn_ , you’re so easy to love, Peril.”

The moment those words spilt out of Napoleon’s mouth, Illya’s heart stopped. And Napoleon learned he’d made a monumental mistake by the shocked look on Illya’s face.

“What did you say?” Illya whispered after a second or two. Napoleon’s words couldn’t be mistaken for anything else other than what it had truly meant, leaving Illya left completely stunned. His mouth went dry, his hands that were petting Mushka started to tremble and he really, really wanted to be mad at Napoleon because this wasn’t the place nor time to be confessing something as huge as that. But Illya didn’t get the answer he wanted because Napoleon was saved by the whistling of the kettle on the stove. He had wanted to make them some hot chocolate to drink, and was glad he could use it as a ruse, so he quickly sat up and excused himself, leaving Illya alone much to his frustration.

 

v

 

“I’ll take the couch.”

“Are you sure?” Illya asked while handing Napoleon the blankets and pillow, eyes never leaving Napoleon’s even if the American was trying hard not to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, I’d like to be near the fireplace. And besides, I see that Mushka’s already made herself comfortable on the bed. I bet she’d be expecting you to join her and not me.”

Illya sighed. The cat was indeed lying in the middle of the narrow bed with its head resting against the pillow and it looked too contented, Illya didn’t have the heart to shoo it away.

“Well, goodnight, Peril, I’ll see you in the morning,” Napoleon said before turning away to step out of the bedroom.

Once he was alone, Illya’s mind flit back to that awkward moment between them earlier. What Napoleon had said, and how they had acted after, was driving Illya crazy. They had mostly stayed silent and talked only when they had to. And even if he couldn’t stand their act for a minute longer, Illya was going to let Napoleon have his way.

For now.

 

vi

 

Napoleon was sitting in front of the fireplace with his arms around his knees tucked tightly against his chest, his chin resting on his knees. He was underneath layers of blankets Illya had offered him, sparing only one for his partner, and despite that his teeth were still chattering slightly. And he cursed the fact that Illya’s sharing the only bed available with that damn cat. Not that Illya would want to share it with him, instead. And if he had asked Illya, he probably would’ve gotten a broken nose for his effort. And after his little confession, Illya probably wouldn’t want to be in close quarters with him at all. Sighing, Napoleon then leaned forward as he tightened the blankets harder around him when his gaze from the fireplace was drawn away by a slight movement from the corner of his eyes. Turning his head, he saw Illya leaning against the bedroom door, his eyes fixed on him.

“Not asleep yet?” he asked.

“I could hear your rustling from inside the bedroom,” Illya answered, seemingly annoyed, but there was no real bite in his words and Napoleon pretended like he wasn’t offended at all by his partner’s remark.

“Gaby radioed. Roads have reopened earlier than expected. She will come in the morning.”

Napoleon nodded. So Illya’s there to tell him the good news, not because he was concerned for his well-being nor was he worried that his partner might just freeze to death. And Gaby coming tomorrow might just be the best news Illya had heard. He’s probably itching to make his way out of there. But before Napoleon could further scrutinise what was going on Illya’s mind, Illya had moved and soon was sitting next to him in front of that fireplace and he could feel Napoleon’s arm, the one that was now brushing against his own, shaking slightly. The American was definitely cold.

“You’re pathetic when it comes to cold weather,” Illya said, keeping his tone light, and Napoleon only shrugged.

“So very aptly put, Peril. But that’s my concern, not yours.”

Illya didn’t say anything to that, even if Napoleon’s words had stung a little. Instead, he reached for a fire poker and started to stoke the fire while once in a while eyeing his partner who was trying his best to avoid eye contact. Not able to ignore Napoleon’s ridiculous act any longer, Illya decided he should make the first move.

”You are cold.”

Napoleon shook his head even if he was. “I’m fine.”

But Illya was not having anymore of his childish antics.

“Here,” he said, moving to face Napoleon now, knees to knees. He reached underneath the blankets so he could take hold of Napoleon’s hands in his.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Napoleon asked in alarm.

“Just shut up,” Illya said. He pulled Napoleon closer, so their legs now were in between each other. Their puffs of air were mingling. This from the Russian was clearly something Napoleon had not expected and he had wanted to protest because his dignity was at stake, but in the end, he couldn’t help but agree that Illya’s body warmth was helping him, although it also made him shiver with nervousness.

They stay like that and sat in silence for a very long time until—

“You were jealous of the cat.”

Napoleon’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened to say something before bursting out laughing, quite unable to contain himself. And when he finally stopped, he saw that Illya was staring at him intently.

“Am I right?” he asked in all seriousness.

Napoleon sighed and then nodded at Illya. “I’d never thought I’d say this, but who would’ve thought I’d actually be jealous of a damn cat.”

There was a curious look on Illya’s face now and then it was Napoleon’s turn to ask the Russian.

“Were you expecting a different answer, Peril?”

“Maybe you are jealous of all cats?”

“No, not all cats. Only of the ones that beat me from getting _your_ attention.”

It took a moment for Illya to understand what Napoleon was saying and then there was an _‘oh!’_ moment when he realised what Napoleon was telling him. He shook his head slowly and smiled.

“That must be joke of the century.”

“Hmm, not really,” Napoleon said, knowing fully well there was no real need to hide anything anymore. He might as well bite the bullet and admit everything. Illya’s not showing any disdain so far. In fact, he had been the one initiating this admission of sorts.

“Look, Peril—Illya, what I’d said earlier, about it being so easy to love you. I meant that—”

“Solo,” Illya quickly cut him off before he could finish what he had wanted to say but Napoleon was adamant.

“I’m sorry, all right? I won’t do anything about it. That is if you don’t want me to.”

Illya shook his head at that. “As usual, the great Napoleon Solo assumes he knows everything.”

Napoleon swallowed, almost afraid of what Illya was implying.

“Do you want me to?”

Their foreheads were almost touching now and Illya was pulling him closer, if that’s even possible, or was it Napoleon that was doing the pulling? Because all Napoleon knew then was Illya’s hands had wandered up to his neck, slowly caressing his nape, before cupping his face in both his hands. Illya was watching his eyes, and then it slowly lowered to his mouth.

“Peril—”

“What?”

Damn, Illya’s voice was husky. Should Napoleon let what was about to happen, happen? The end result could be incredibly dangerous, or it could be incredibly wonderful. He much preferred the latter option.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“And my answer is you should not be jealous of cat,” Illya muttered, breaking Napoleon’s chain of thoughts and making him smile again.

“I can’t help myself. I thought you cared about Mushka more than you care about me.”

“No, idiot, of course not,” Illya murmured at his pouting partner. “I care about you more.”

The more you know what you are and what you want, the less you let things upset or worry you. And in Napoleon’s case, he definitely knew what he wanted so he wasn’t going to let this opportunity that was being presented to him, slip away.

“I’ve always had this crazy idea. Of me and you ending up together like this,” he admitted. “But I never thought a cat would be the catalyst for it.”

“Anything is possible in the span of one night, yes?” Illya offered, his voice unaccountably thick now. And Napoleon’s gut churned at that, his heart fluttering uncontrollably. He breathed, unsure where all the neediness he was feeling had come from. He rarely felt like that, but then he realised, Illya was the only one that had managed those emotions in him. And right at that second, evidently, those feelings were getting stronger because closing that space between them was all that mattered to Napoleon. His face tilted when Illya brushed down his lips, the touch sending tingles all over Napoleon’s body. For a moment, he actually forgot about the cold and everything else. Napoleon’s arms were braced against the floor as Illya was leaning in more, pushing him down until he was practically on top of Napoleon. But just as they were about to deepen the kiss, something furry brushed against Illya’s cheek making him yelp in surprise and pulled back immediately from Napoleon.

“ _Chyort!_ ” he cursed. The cat had just jumped onto Napoleon’s chest and was looking up at Illya with expectant eyes.

“Damn it, Peril. Now she’s literally coming in between us,” Napoleon groaned, half in frustration, half in amusement. “I think it’s jealous of me.”

Even though he’s annoyed Mushka had interrupted their moment, Illya couldn’t ignore those eyes so he picked her up off from Napoleon and wrapped his one arm underneath it, with his other hand gently petting her head, letting her cuddle close across his chest. And Napoleon could only sigh to what he’s seeing as he collapsed totally on the floor.

“Okay, I admit defeat. Mushka, _you_ win. You can have Illya back.”

For lack of better word, Illya only rolled his eyes but there was definitely fondness when he looked at Napoleon.

“She’s just deprived of attention. The reason why she is behaving this way,” he reasoned later after putting Mushka back in the bedroom. 

“It’s just her excuse to hog your attention,” Napoleon scoffed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above. They didn’t speak for a while until Illya broke the silence, his remark meant to tease more than to reprimand. 

“You are such a child, Cowboy. Treating that cat as if she’s a foe.”

Napoleon wanted to protest but before he could, Illya, who was previously looming near his foot, had somehow crawled towards him, and with his hands now on either side of his head, the Russian was looking down at him with eyes narrowed, and then it softened with his lips curling up into a smile. They stared at each other for a moment, and Napoleon could not help the magnetic pull then because Illya was giving him some serious butterflies in his stomach, and their lips met halfway when he leaned up to kiss Illya. His fingers soon were tangled in Illya’s hair, pulling him down, and there were muffled moans as Illya kissed him deeper, harder. His heart pounded, the ache in his chest seemed to triple and just when Illya tore their lips apart and started to nibble down his neck, Napoleon felt something nosing his cheek and then there was licking and he knew _that_ was definitely not Illya. They both turned in unison to see Mushka nudging its face near Napoleon, mewing to get his attention, or maybe to get Illya’s Napoleon was unsure, and then a second later they both broke into peals of laughter.

“This is just wonderful,” Napoleon said.

“I’m sorry, Cowboy,” Illya apologised as he stood up once again to pick Mushka off the carpet before placing the cat on the nearby couch. But the cat was quick to jump off it once Illya moved away and slithered her way in between Illya’s legs making him groan in annoyance. When he turned towards Napoleon, he saw his partner had already propped himself up on his elbows.

“It’s okay. We have self-control, don’t we, Peril? We don’t have to do anything tonight. I mean, it can wait. We’re not animals.”

Illya’s face turned a furious red at Napoleon’s cheeky remark because he knew exactly what Napoleon was implying.

“Of course,” he mumbled, as Napoleon laughed again and winked, and at that moment Illya couldn’t believe he had never admitted what he had felt for Napoleon before. This ridiculous man, whose cheeks were flushed, hair ruffled and who was now smiling dazedly at him, had long ago drew out that feeling he figured he would never feel for anyone. And it had taken this broken moment between them for Illya to let his feelings known. Feelings he had kept too long inside.

"Unless, of course, you don’t want to wait."

It was incredible how Napoleon had just read his mind. And Illya shook his head at him.

"No, I don’t want to."

“Then come here.”

Illya trembled a little at Napoleon’s commanding invitation, but his feet had already moved and soon he was on that floor again with Napoleon and even if he was a little nervous, he took a fistful of Napoleon’s hair and kissed him again and this time he didn’t care if Mushka was watching, or if they would get interrupted again, because there was no way he was going to let something this good, wait.

 

vii

 

The next morning Illya could hear a familiar voice calling his name, and then Napoleon’s, repeating it over and over. As seconds ticked on, the calling turned from faint to an affirming tone, before the voice switched to slight yelling, and by that time he could feel something poking his toe, and then his calf. Grumbling, Illya tugged at the blanket covering his body. His movement made Napoleon groan beside him, a low muffled grunt, and then the American was curling forward, burying his nose in the crook of Illya’s neck with one arm curling loosely around his shoulder.

“Illya!”

Illya finally blinked his eyes open at what he might say was a shriek of his name. Still blurry from sleep, he could make out a form standing before them. And then he squinted.

“G-Gaby?”

“I cannot believe you both! I just cannot believe it!”

Ignoring Gaby’s rambling, Illya untangled himself from Napoleon’s hold before rolling over and propping himself up with his elbows. Rubbing his eyes, he noted the clear weather outside, bright morning sunlight streaming into the room through the window. It was definitely better than yesterday when Napoleon had set off in the snowy weather to find them food and then, and then… _Fuck!_ It suddenly dawned on him what had happened the night before and realising Napoleon beside him in the same state of undress as he was, Illya quickly sat up in horror. He understood now why Gaby was there looking so incensed. But just as he was about to explain himself, he noticed she was holding Mushka, the cat cradled between her forearms, snugly pressed up against her chest. And it was looking mighty comfortable and secure for a cat who had just met a total stranger.

“I see you’ve made friends with Mushka.”

But there was an incredulous look on Gaby’s face like she couldn’t believe Illya had actually given the cat a name. And no, she was not buying Illya’s feeble attempt at redirection either because she knew exactly what he was trying to do.

“Honestly! To think I was worried sick that those extremists might track you down and at the same time fretting you both might just kill each other without my supervision! I mean, yeah, sure I’ve figured _this_ between you two was bound to happen sometime, but _oh my God_ , talk about despicable timing, Illya!”

“But, Gaby.“

“And then there’s this cat lounging at your feet when I walked in here? God knows what it had to endure last night with you two doing God knows what! It must be traumatised! And then you named it Mushka? Incredible!”

“Look, Gaby, is not so bad,” Illya interrupted Gaby’s rant again with a small smile but Gaby, unimpressed, only put up a firm hand to stop Illya from saying anything.

“No, I don’t want to hear anything from you. Just get ready and I’ll wait outside. And wake Solo up! Waverly’s expecting us in an hour,” she grunted before turning on her heels and storming out of the cabin with Mushka in her arms. And Illya could only watch her go, mouth slightly agape, shaking his head a little as if unable to believe what had just happened.

“You know, it’s quite a good thing she likes the cat.”

At the sound of Napoleon’s voice, Illya turned to see that his friend was already awake and was peeking at him from underneath the blankets.

“You were awake the entire time?” Illya asked in disbelieve and nudged the American hard on the ribs.

“How could I not with all the yelling?” Napoleon said and yelped when Illya nudged him harder. He got up, sitting just as Illya was next to him, and he took in the quiet moment before stretching and yawning and soon he was on his feet. There was a blanket wrapped around him to protect his modesty, not that he needed it in front of Illya because Illya’s allowed to look now at him without blushing furiously like he’d done numerous times before. Napoleon just wanted to make sure Gaby wouldn’t walk in on him, on them again, like she’d done earlier. And he didn’t want to imagine the horror she’d gone through, even if he had heard her say it hadn’t really surprised her to find them both in that embarrassing predicament. If Gaby had realised that little something between Illya and him all along, then maybe he had not been too discreet with his feelings for the Russian after all.

After having that little epiphany in his head, Napoleon turned to smile at his bewildered partner.

”What?” Illya asked, a little suspicious at Napoleon’s sly look.

“When I think about it again, Gaby’s rant was actually worth it. Because it means we could have this morning kiss without Mushka or anything else interrupting us.”

“Morning kiss?”

“Yes, Illya, _this_.”

Not bothering to explain himself, Napoleon reached down so he could grab Illya by his arm to pull him up. When they’re standing face to face, he cupped one hand around Illya’s neck and tilted his head up so that their lips could meet. Illya let their kiss linger longer than it should, before murmuring something against Napoleon’s lips, something that sounded like _‘Gaby’s waiting outside, we don’t want her to get angry’_ but Napoleon only mumbled _‘just for a few more seconds, Peril’_. Despite the haze in his brain, and knowing how precarious their entire situation was, Illya argued _‘she might be watching us right now’_ to Napoleon’s _‘let her.’_

And while the entire back and forth between them was going on, Gaby was indeed watching everything unfold in front of her eyes through the window, with Mushka purring in her arms, and could only shake her head and smile.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is unbetaed. I had changed the ending numerous times. So, mistakes are all mine.


End file.
